Chapter Fourteen
Her brothers hadn’t missed her.
Ossian was snoring on his back on one of the benches while Ewan watched men down in the arena.
They weren’t fighting, but picking through the dirt to ensure there were no rocks or anything to injure men who fell on it.
Even though Isadora had been gone for a goodly amount of time, Ewan barely acknowledged her when she returned.
Isadora breathed a sigh of relief.
Night was falling and groups of men were beginning to filter into the lists.
Isadora settled back on the bench and watched the crowds gather, both men and women, with the women gathering down at the base of the lists to watch combatants at close range.
More men came into the arena, raking through the dirt one last time, before disappearing.
With the arena finally cleared and the lists fairly full, a man in an orange robe came to announce the start of the games.
This was what they’d been waiting for.
The crowd began to cheer loudly as a very big man with leathery skin came into the arena and announced the first battle. These were the iusto bouts, or the more amateur bouts, involving the novicius, the novices, against the tiro, who were men that were the next tier up from the novice class.
In fact, the first fight was over before it started. The more advanced man struck the novicius on the head and down he went. There were two more bouts after that, which went for a fairly long time, and the crowd was worked up into a frenzy for the major bouts to come later.
The next bout was billed as a primus, which was essentially hand-to-hand combat.
A man called The Beast came out first and the crowd went mad for him.
They were screaming, calling his name, and he acknowledged their adoration.
He was only carrying a club and a shield and wore no protection at all on his half-naked body.
He didn’t even wear shoes. Isadora was so focused on the barbarian-looking warrior that she failed to see The Beast’s opponent emerge into the arena.
It was Cam.
Isadora could hardly believe her eyes. He, too, was stripped from the waist up, holding a shield and a club just like The Beast was. Cam was a big man but he wasn’t nearly the size of The Beast, who went after him almost immediately.
It was all Isadora could do not to gasp in fear.
Eyes wide, she watched in horror as Cam tried to fight off a giant. In truth, he wasn’t doing much fighting, mostly trying to stay clear of The Beast’s club, and the crowd was becoming restless. They wanted to see a fight and Cam simply wasn’t giving them one.
He was just trying to stay alive.
This wasn’t what Isadora wanted her father to see. Quickly, she rose from her seat.
“I’ll return,” she said.
Assuming she had personal business to attend to, Niall simply shrugged and let her go, returning his attention to the fight.
But Isadora had a destination in mind. Racing up the aisle, she skirted the very top of the arena and came down the aisle on the far side, far away from her father and brothers. There were people gathered down there, watching, but she shoved through them until she was at the edge of the arena.
Down here at eye level, the situation looked much more serious as Cam had now lost his shield and was trying to match The Beast blow for blow. They both had clubs, both of them trying to pummel each other, only The Beast was stronger simply because of his size.
Isadora could see that Cam wasn’t long for this fight if he didn’t do something fast.
He would have to fight dirty.
“Go for the feet!” she screamed at him. “His feet! Hit his feet!”
She had to scream a few more times before he happened to catch sight of her because she was in his line of vision. She wasn’t hard to miss with her red hair and waving arms, and Cam caught sight of her as he tried to maneuver his way around The Beast.
Seeing she had his attention, Isadora pointed at her feet.
“Hit his feet! The feet!”
From his expression, Isadora could tell that Cam understood her.
The next time The Beast took a swing at him, Cam ducked under the man’s swipe and used his club to pound The Beast’s exposed toes.
Being shoeless in a fight was extraordinarily arrogant, or extraordinarily stupid, and The Beast howled in pain.
He lost both his club and his shield, nearly falling from the shock of having his toes crushed.
The crowd, seeing a twist in the game that now made it much more interesting, began to yell encouragement to Cam.
They loved their champion, but they loved an underdog more.
Cam dared to take his focus off The Beast for a split second, glancing at Isadora with a smile on his lips, one she readily returned.
But that smile was short-lived. Angry and in pain, The Beast attacked Cam.
The Beast caught him from the side, plowing into him and lifting him up before throwing him down onto the ground, right onto his back.
With the wind knocked out of him, Cam could barely defend himself when The Beast came down on him, fists swinging.
Instinct had Cam throw up his arms to protect his head, but The Beast got in a few heavy blows before Cam brought up his knee, ramming it into The Beast’s groin.
The Beast was stopped, but only momentarily.
As Isadora watched in horror, The Beast angrily threw Cam around.
At one point, Cam was on his feet, trying to throw a punch that was easily blocked.
The Beast picked him up by the head and Cam used his thumbs, jamming them into The Beast’s eyes just as he’d done to Luther those months ago.
When the man screamed, and dropped him, Cam rammed The Beast in the abdomen with his shoulder as hard as he could.
The Beast went down.
By this time, there were men in the arena to break up the fight because Cam lost the bout the moment The Beast threw him onto his back and knocked the wind out of him.
Once a man was down, he was not allowed to rise again, but because The Beast was on the offensive, Cam had not been given a choice. It was either defend himself or die.
By the time the marshals broke up the fight, Cam could barely stand and The Beast had to be dragged out of the arena by several men. Cam tried to make it out under his own power but he fell to his knees.
Isadora was over the barrier and onto the arena floor before anyone could stop her.
“I have ye,” she said, propping Cam up and helping him walk. “Come along, Cam. I have ye.”
Cam was dazed, bleeding all over the place. He couldn’t even speak. Isadora got as far as the entry into the holding yard before she was stopped and separated from Cam. As she was forcibly escorted back to the lists by two soldiers, Cam was taken away by some men.
The last she saw of him, he was being taken back behind the arena. He may have been beaten, but he’d done extremely well. As he’d told her once, he would try to make her proud.
He had.
*
“You fought well.”
Cam opened his eyes slowly, or at least the right one. The left was nearly swollen shut. Clegg gazed down at him.
“Now I see what Axel and Luther saw in Edinburgh,” Clegg said. “To last as long as you did against The Beast, you must be extraordinarily strong. I commend you.”
Cam was still on the stone bench where he’d been placed after he’d come off the field. The physic had examined him, told him he didn’t seem to have any broken bones, and gone off to fetch a pain potion.
Everything hurt.
A smile tugged on Clegg’s lips. “I think you are destined for great things, Highlander. I will keep my eye on you.”
“I want tae train with Milo.”
Clegg’s smile faded with the surprising request. “Why?”
“Because he’s a man I respect.”
Clegg nodded, mulling over the appeal. “And you do not respect Wendell?”
“I respect Milo more.”
“Then I will consider it.”
“Thank ye, m’laird.”
With that, Clegg wandered out of Cam’s line of sight.
The physic returned a short time later with a potion that tasted terrible. It was bitter and acidic, but Cam drank it down, then two men heaved him off the bench and helped him back to his cottage. By the time they got there, he was standing on his own.
He waved the men off. All he wanted to do was sleep, wondering fleetingly if he’d be expected to train on the morrow. He hoped his violent bout had earned him a day of rest but he suspected not. There hadn’t been a day off since his arrival two months earlier.
A knock on the door caught his attention just as he lay down.
The door opened, but Cam didn’t turn to see who it was. He simply closed his eyes again, feeling drowsy from the potion the physic had given him.
A soft voice spoke.
“I am sorry if smashing the man’s toes made him angry. I meant that it should disable him, not turn him against ye.”
Cam’s eyes popped open and he turned his head. Isadora was standing just inside the doorway and he moved painfully into a sitting position to greet her.
“It worked for a short time,” he said, feeling light of heart just to see her in spite of his pain. “Ye tried tae help me and I am grateful.”
She smiled, a toothy grin that he found so lovely. “How do ye feel?”
“Like a man called The Beast has beaten on me.”
She laughed softly. “But ye survived,” she said, moving to him and reaching out to touch his swollen face. “I only wish they’d let me get intae the arena with ye. I would have given that animal a fight he’d never forget.”
Cam took her hand, trying to kiss it but wincing when he did. “Och,” he said. “I think my face is about tae fall tae pieces.”
She giggled softly. “It could have been worse,” she said. “At least ye walked away.”
“Barely. Were ye proud of me, Is?”
She leaned forward, kissing his battered face. “More than ye know,” she murmured. “For a man who swore he wasna a warrior, ye did good.”
His eyes glittered at her. “I’m glad ye think so,” he said, lifting up the battered bunch of her red hair. “I kept it with me. It brought me luck. But I think ye may have saved my life. I was losing badly.”
She smiled, rather modestly. “I dunna think he would have crushed ye,” she said. “Ye dunna seem the type tae be crushed. Ye have strength.”
“Ye think so?”
“I do.”
With that, she helped him ease back down to a supine position and took the nasty, sweaty bunch of her red hair from his hand, setting it aside. There was a cold compress by his head; she picked it up, holding it against his battered face as he gazed up at her.
“Isadora?”
“Aye?”
“Why did ye come tae the Ludus Caledonia? Why are ye and yer brothers here?”
She paused in the midst of tending him. “Ye ask me that now? There’ll be time tae discuss it later. Right now, ye should rest.”
“Is it a secret?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “My da is here tae find a warrior tae fight with our people.”
“Yer da has an army?”
She smiled faintly. “We have young warriors in need of a strong leader. He wants tae find a man strong enough tae lead them.” Her gaze lingered on him a moment. “Now, tell me why ye’re here. Why did ye come tae train at The Cal, Cam? Ye always told me ye dinna need tae learn tae fight.”
It was true; he had. Cam gazed at her a moment, his mood dampening.
He didn’t want to tell her the truth. That was something he would not speak of unless it was absolutely necessary.
It was his own personal motivation, a moment in his life that made him who he was.
It took him a moment to realize that his grandfather’s death and his quest for vengeance were no longer separate events that drove Cam the blacksmith, the once-peaceful man.
It had become him.
He wondered if she’d look at him differently if he confessed that.
“I’ve spent my life as a smithy in Netherton,” he said after a moment. “Netherton is gone. Everything is… gone.”
“What of yer grandfather?”
It was the fateful question and Cam felt the pain to his bones when he answered it. “Gone.”
It was barely a whisper. Isadora, realizing the worst had happened, didn’t push beyond that. “So ye came tae learn tae fight at a place like this?” she asked curiously. “But why?”
He closed his eyes, not wanting to admit to her that there was death in his heart. She loved a man who didn’t really exist any longer and he was afraid to lose that. He couldn’t stand the pain if he found her again only for her to leave him because his heart had turned black.
“Why not?” he muttered. “A man has tae earn a living somehow. My blacksmith stall is gone, so why not learn something new?”
“So ye came tae learn tae fight?”
“It seemed as good a choice as any.”
From the way Isadora was looking at him, it was clear that she didn’t believe him. To her credit, however, she didn’t contest him.
A man had a right to some secrets.
“Are… are ye interested in a position, then?” she asked softly. “A new way of life as a warrior?”
“Something like that.”
“My da needs a good man, Cam. I think ye have the strength that he needs.”
Cam turned his head to look at her, thinking she might be a little daft. “After ye saw me beaten this afternoon and now defeated in the arena tonight, ye think I have the skill for such a thing? I am only learning, though I am honored that ye would ask.”
“How long do ye intend tae stay here, then?”
“I have taken an oath for seven years. I will be trained, I will make money for The Cal, and at the end of those seven years, I can buy my freedom if a laird doesna make an offer for my services first.”
“Seven years?” she repeated, trying not to sound depressed. “But… if ye learn faster, can ye leave sooner?”
“If a laird makes an offer for me that compensates Sir Clegg, then I suppose I can leave whenever I am ready.”
Isadora opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it. He hadn’t shown much interest in serving her father, which upset her. She thought he would have jumped at the chance, simply to be with her.
But he hadn’t.
Perhaps it was fatigue and injury robbing him of his enthusiasm for such a prospect, but she couldn’t be sure. She wouldn’t press him today, but the time would come when she would bring up the subject again. Perhaps when he wasn’t so beaten down, he might consider it.
Returning to the Highlands.
Returning to her.
One thing was for certain, however—she was going to make sure her father noticed the man if she had to throw him in front of The Beast again to ensure such a thing.
She wasn’t leaving the Ludus Caledonia without Cam.